The Reimbursement of a Work-Related Expense
by SilkHandkerchief
Summary: LME is not made of money, no matter how glorious showbiz may appear when exposed to the President's lavish antics. Sebastian knows this like no other as he once again finds himself in the unenviable position of convincing the Finance Department to sign off on an expense. It is a matter of professional pride, Lory's image, an actress' reputation and Lady Fortuna's approval.


_**Author Note**_ _(May 4, 2019)_

I had a very nice discussion in the SB Discord earlier today with Toonwitt. It was regarding a certain purchase Kyoko once made. And then they wondered: how would she go about having this expense reimbursed? It is, after all, a work-related expense... in a sensitive situation.

As I wrote this, the story began to develop itself into being something far longer than I ever intended it to be. It started out as a film-noir inspired ambience with two stubborn characters butting heads, but it turned into far more than that. I have definitely taken a bunch of liberties that drag it away from canon, but all in good fun, right?

(Unfortunately the site does not give me the option to select Sebastian as a character, so Lory will have to do. My sincere apologies go out to any Lory fans who hoped for more Lory than this story offers!)

_**Enjoy! ~SilkHandkerchief**_

* * *

**_The Reimbursement of a Work-Related Expense_**

Hidden within the bowels of the corridors that make up the LME headquarters, there is one department nobody ever notices. Of course, this is wholly intentional, but even then its presence is like a lurking dragon: a bad omen that is to befall those whose fate of splurging wholesomeness is not favoured by Lady Fortuna.

And today, Sebastian is the poor soul who finds his stars in misalignment with the bare essentials of his own horoscopical sign.

It had tried to warn him. And yet he did not listen. Because 'he has done this before'. Because of... professional pride?

"You can tell the President he can shove it. We are not expensing this!"

The basement, the home of the gremlins of accounting, almost perceivably quakes to a degree where those who walk in the light above will come to question it. Almost.

Alas. Sebastian is an old hand in this department, and a steady stare meets the old accountant with grey plucks in their hair. It is a picturesque scene that belongs to one of those old Noir movies, ashtrays and smokey ambience included.

"You have to."

Whether it is Sebastian's soft-spoken, lilting tenor that speaks those words, or his battle-worn gaze, they are in utter agreement. There is no budging on the matter. The expense is not in question.

"Like hell we are! This is not a costume ruined by wine, nor is it imported dancers from Las Vegas. This is not an expense we can reimburse. It was not for business, and before you ask me, no, he cannot deduct it from his taxes either!"

Outside in the corridor, the banished gremlins have slowed their pace to a crawl, no doubt intending to pick up ever bit of illicit gossip... or delicious schadenfreude they can get. It is always wonderful when the department head shoots down those spoiled talents living the high life, trying to argue the way LMEs reputation profits from the initiative of them renting a Koenigsegg for their daily driver during the first week at whatever new important gig they scored.

Unfortunately for them, any gremlin could tell them that, save for the most time-critical of events, any expenses over a certain threshold require authorization in advance.

"But... you have to."

Inside the room, Sebastian's expression is still that of the unimpressed, exotic-looking servant that matches the President's current obsession... albeit with a little twist. The lower eyelid of his right eye twitches just a little, a betrayal of a carefully honed body in the face of psychological warfare.

It is not that Sebastian is scared of the chiefiest of gremblins. Oh no.

"I have to do nothing but keep this forsaken excuse of a company operating. And I do that - very gleefully so, I might add - by denying this abuse of executive power!"

It is the outcome he fears. The outcome for when he fails to convince this old relic. Perhaps... perhaps he should have paid more heed to his horoscope. 'Stay by their side, or regret.' If the President were here, would this man dare to be so taken in with himself and the power he holds?

Sebastian smiles faintly at the thought as he continues to stand in front motionlessly of that desk, even as the teasing tendrils of smoke from a a salaryman-quality cigarette tease at his nostrils and that very same twitchy eye. Alas. The President has no patience for the antics of these love-less, number-obsessed individuals. It is why it is always Sebastian who comes here when matters cannot be avoided.

"Then, may I remind you of a line in LME's Mission Statement?

'LME sees it as its first and foremost purpose to appreciate and promote the many forms of beauty that often finds itself ignored in today's society, regardless of whether they are outward, emotional, spiritual or not even remotely quantifiable.'

I garner that this is, in fact, a very fitting expense."

The chief gremlin stands up, his fist petulantly slamming onto his desk.

"Like hell it is! You know as well as I do that that sentence is the ruinous result of a week long retreat with stakeholders butting heads with that damn love-obsessed idiot. They would not let him use the word - why would they, given how bluntly he carries out that personal crusade of his! - so in the end, they were worn down to include that preposterous excuse of a sentence in a mission statement. You know exactly what those words refer to!"

Lory crying and panicking like he just saw a dark romance that lacks a happy ending... Now that would put Sebastian in a bind. He can deal with many things without any issue. Paparazzi and the President's crazy admirers are the very lowest on his list of worries. But Lory in that state? That is a quandary.

And if he can not get the Finance department to issue the reimbursement with matching receipt, that is exactly what will happen. And thus he must fight the fight that is not his, but has been made his own.

"The furthering of any and all forms of love."

The smouldering cylinder in between the gremlins fingers points at Sebastian, the door, and then Sebastian again before the man can finally find his words again.

"Get out! No! Those words refer to the growth of actors, singers and other talents into mastering their fields. Those words refer to the production of valuable pieces of cultural art that will be of added value to humanity as a whole. It refers to avoiding the pitfall of relying on the negative stimuli that people gravitate towards with their interests, but to equally promote positive additions that do not involve bloodshed, gore and horrific nightmares. _That_ is what that mission statement refers to!"

The Chief can only splutter as his fingers angrily jab at the receipt resting on his desk, his face turning red with anger and outright frustration at the gall of what Lory's lackey has been trying to browbeat him into doing or even permitting. Inexcusable!

And yet he is met with Sebastian's unwavering confidence, uncontrollable facial tics aside. "Love is the most positive of such additions. So, please reimburse the work expense."

Unavoidably, an outburst results that even the little gremlins in the hallway can understand crystal clear.

"What about 'NO' do you not understand? I am not reimbursing the President's ridiculous expense. Even if I will praise the gospel of the man finally finding a woman he loves so that he'll stop pushing the concept through everyones throats - yes, you can tell the eccentric nutcase that exact quote - him showering his new flame with gifts on the company's dime is simply NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!~"

After this outburst, the man is shaking, panting and wheezing, a fact that is no doubt not helped by the greedy way he almost devours that almost spent soggy cylinder between his fingers right afterwards. "Do you hear me, Mr. Sebastian the foot-servant? NO. MEANS. NO!"

But it HAS to be 'YES'! Sebastian doesn't sweat much thanks to his heritage of genes, but if he did, there would be definite traces running down his forehead at this point.

If the President can not present an official reimbursement slip to Mogami Kyoko, there is going to be hell to pay..! From all Sebastian has seen of this young woman - actually, his knowledge of her only comes second to his knowledge of Tsuruga Ren - she is a stickler for protocol and propriety, and the fact she even ended up having to bother the President with this matter means she will most definitely demand to see the slip to make sure that the President doesn't end up footing the bill for such a problematic work expense.

"Ah. But you misunderstand. This item was not bought by the President. It was purchased by one of the many talents to address a costume deficiency."

The chief of finance can only look down, smoke bursting out of his nostrils as he snorts while re-reading the receipt that lies at the core of this confrontation.

"Then that should be declared by the talent in question, to the finance department of the project in question. Not to the LME Finance grotto here. You are the wrong person who is in the wrong place."

Sebastian can only press his lips to a firm, non-compromising yet confiding smile as he leans in, using a lower voice.

"I am afraid not. This involved an extra-curricular training activity ordered by the President, and you of all people should know unexpected those can be. The LME Clothing Department was unavailable at the time and likely would not have had such an item in her size, never mind the fact that actresses are always very concerned about their reputation. You know how the walls incorrigibly have a habit of developing ears and later the mouths to match..."

The small man stares at Sebastian, his eyes narrowing before snarling loudly. "GET BACK TO WORK, YOU SLACKERS! ANYONE STILL STANDING TEN SECONDS FROM NOW WILL GET TO CLEAN THE ARCHIVES DURING OUR QUARTERLY RETREAT!"

Scuffles sound from the hallway, and there shall be no more doubt about the pristine, empty condition of the basement hallway by the time those ten seconds have come to pass.

'Satisfied?' The eyes of the chief challenge Sebastian with an unspoken glare that demands further explanation.

"Quarterly retreat? Other LME departments only get one retreat every yea..." Sebastian begins to say in his normal voice, but he is cut off by the chief who has now found his turn in the conversation to be all hush-hush.

"For the Finance Department, funds for certain preferential customs are only natural to have. We were banished to this basement to preserve a certain bit of reputation and image, so it stands to reason that allowances must be made. We don't see much of the sun, or of those those pretty young actresses, or even this erokawa lingerie set you demand we pay the funds for. Did I mention.. we never actually get to see most of the things we dispense? Especially not... worn."

The chief offers a toothy grin as he rounds the desk, his hand familiarly slapping on Sebastian's shoulder, but upon noticing the cold reception of the male-to-male, buddy-amongst-buddies gesture, he quickly clears his throat. "Not that we could demand such a thing, of course."

It only stands for Lory's loyal manservant to force an agreeable expression when faced with this shamelessness.

"That is.. very understandable. So... you will handle the reimbursement now?" he inquires summarily, his voice clipped.

The chief shakes his head, smacking his lips with comparatively loud, regretful sounds.

"Of course not. That is that, and this is this. The shareholders have always been very clear: we cannot afford to bankroll the President's crusade in any shape or form. Expenses must be limited to the promotion of the company and its talents."

Sebastian sighs, one hand tightly gripping the other behind his back to restrain the bubbling emotions this man unavoidably manages to draw out of him whenever they meet, but on this occasion appear to resemble a geyser ready to burst out instead.

"There are always solutions to such problems." He responds with gritted teeth, knowing exactly what this husk of a man is angling for.

"Oh, of course there are. That is the nature of the books. Ever changing, flexible, yet unbidden and bound by statutes and law. It takes a truly experienced man to..."

"Get to the point."

"A photo of the actress in question wearing it."

Sebastian rolls his eyes. "That does not exist."

"Nonsense. The President has you carry that camera around for a reason. What was it? 'You never know when a talent comes to truly shine'? ... don't bother: obviously I know this because I had to reimburse that camera to begin with."

Sebastian frowns. Yes, he shot over a hundred pictures of Mogami Kyoko during her 'dangerous' assignment, but besides betraying her trust, there is the simple fact her identity as Setsu Heel cannot be exposed for operational purposes! Especially to these gremlins! Even if Miss Mogami is utterly unrecognizable after having been handled by Jelly Woods, such pictures will definitely make the rounds in this department, and who knows if these pervert gremlins have a talent similar to that girls own where they can easily recognise her based on something like the perkiness of her bum or her cupsize regardless of makeup and costume.

He can not take that chance, no matter what!

"Impossible. Even though the assignment in question had the unmistakable touch of the President's crusade impressed upon it, it also handles the budding careers of several very promising young talents. This is a matter of their future: it is a line that I can not cross no matter what."

The Chief frowns, peering at him. "Oh well... no skin off my back. But... I guess you have a problem now, don't you, Mr. Sebastian?"

One can almost hear the audible gnashing of teeth as Sebastian can feel the depravity of this basement rub off on him. Is a step of moral deplorability the only recourse in order to accomplish his job?

He sees... no other way.

"Since the assignment has concluded... I believe those pieces of clothing will no longer be needed."

His voice cracks slightly, and Sebastian can feel the flush heating his cheeks. Thankfully the tan of his skin has always done a wonderful job hiding his shame, especially when combined with his many years of exposure to a President who is unrivalled at bringing out the embarassment in those around him.

The chief claps his hands together, rubbing them warmer with an anticipatory smile of glee and satisfaction.

"Well, since the articles of clothing in question are to be returned to me... I mean, LME... then that changes matters to where the burden of proof of it not being a personal purchase is properly satisfied. As the Chief of the Finance Department, I am completely willing to handle the matter of this reimbursement.. slip."

The waggle of his eyebrows shows that gremlins will always be gremlins, no matter how well they cook the books to keep a company like LME solvent and successful. He turns away and begins to handle the paperwork involved with the reimbursement. Unsurprisingly, he is very efficient at this. Maddeningly efficient. As if he doesn't want Sebastian to back out.

He soon holds out the newly written reimbursement slip for the President. "A slip for a slip, yes?" he grins toothily while still holding the original receipt in his other hand.

Of course, that is not the slip he is getting at. Not at all.

"I will see to it that the items are delivered to you for preliminary inspection in the next three days."

Sebastian gruffly responds, yanking the reimbursement slip out of the chief gremlins hand before turning around, opening the door and escaping the office of the Chief of Finance department.

This is yet another arrangement that Lory can never learn of.

Yet another slip where he has given in to the dark deplorable nature of these basement dwellers.

All in the name of work.

All in the name of Lory.

All... in the name... of love.

...

And yet... he regrets. He should not have come here alone.


End file.
